DANGER IN THE DRIVEWAY (SOUNDS LIKE A MOVIE OF THE WEEK)
I really enjoy being out. I love the short trip across my bedroom and back in a flash. I love the travel around my neighborhood. I love the rush of flying straight up from the ground and looking back to admire the view. I love the "vibration" I feel sometimes just before lift-out and the "charge" that stays awhile after my return. I love everything about the experience. But this wasn't always the case. It took awhile to become accustomed to traveling. And during one year in particular, before I knew very much about traveling, I was simply too afraid to explore.
On one particular morning, around the time of my tumbling travels, I'd awoke around six before the household was kick-started. I was anxious to get outside and enjoy my summer vacation. Due to the early hour however, I lay in bed awhile and concentrated on the play I would later enjoy. On the whim of this focused effort of thought, I jumped out twice that one day and reluctantly once the following day.
I didn't travel too far, just to the steps of my home's front door and then down the steps and then the driveway. Familiar places. Just floating about enjoying the early summer sun, la la la. Not really understanding how I'm doing what I'm doing. Savoring the freedom. And then some son of a bungee-cord came sliding up the driveway and grabbed me. I kid you not.
I'd seen it near the edge of the driveway, but I hadn't paid it much attention. I couldn't grasp my own floating form, let alone concern myself with every squishy entity that might be in my vicinity.
I struggled against the mushy beast. I tugged and pushed and pulled against its stretchy appendages. And still, this whatever it was just hung in there. Finally, in exhaustive surrender, I screamed (nonverbally) for Mom and blasted back through the house, into me and my bed. (Note my early theme of screaming for Mom. I had to go with what worked at the time.)
Following my return, I mellowed out for a minute or two and pondered. I figured the travel as nothing more than a "real-dream" unlikely to occur twice. But I was wrong three times. The second time was about ten minutes after that first return.
I went out the same way I managed on that first jump and ta da, after a few moments, guess who came creeping up the driveway in my direction? It got within inches of me before I screamed back to the physical. (I'll explain later why this happens, if you don't mind hanging around.)
I'd had enough of this game. Unfortunately, on the following day and without my conscious effort of choice to go play, I found myself out on the front steps again, and that mindless vine was right there too. Didn't this blob have some other kid to torment?
Now, as an adult, I can analyze this annoying, clinging parasite as just being annoyingly clingy. I can attempt to make light of the event. But as a child, I was really frightened. It was a year before I ventured back to my curiosity of the "real-dream" that I now know as traveling. I didn't make any attempts to play the game. I put up such a strong mental block, due to my fear, that it suppressed even my subconscious, uncontrolled travels. I couldn't face the possibility of encountering that bothersome mass of whatever it was.
I'm not the first to write about intruders that might be met while you're out. I've actually read some fairly similar accounts. This makes sense, if you buy into the whole thing anyway. There has to be more than one of these "driveway jumpers," and I was one of the unlucky few to make an acquaintance.
Of course, there has to be some good news, and here it is. When I did eventually return to traveling, the menace (such as it was to a child) never returned. And I offer the following pieces of nonphysical explanation. A travel is dictated primarily by desire. (Trivial Pursuit doesn't have that one, I bet.) An unexperienced traveler does not need to understand how a travel works to have one. As a child, it was this desire factor that sent me traveling. But I was unfamiliar with the nonphysical environment. This is likely a perfect bait for such clinging entities. It took me the span of a year to "grow up" beyond its grasp.
While you're out, there are others that you might run into. It happens. If you're out and your neighbor is out, and you're both on a similar travel, you might meet. It's quite a bit more difficult than a physical encounter, but it does happen. You might also run into entities you're unfamiliar with, like my good pal, Mr. Huggy Stuff. (It deserves a cute name, don't ya think?)
I know that intruding entities may be tough to believe, but follow along. If you're out, why shouldn't someone or thing be out too? Perhaps it's the natural state of "being" for that someone/thing. But don't worry yourself. It was a big deal to me as a child, but encounters are almost always innocent. Besides, the whole process of getting back to your physical is virtually foolproof (perfect for me). You won't be forever trapped out-of-body by someone you meet or someplace you go (as explained in the section titled Travel Connection). And with the right attitude you'll always rise above any less than pleasant travels.
Don't fret too much about mildly annoying entities. They're there, but very rarely where you are. Just remember when you meet a traveler, it might be someone like yourself or perhaps not. So follow this simple advice. If you run into someone/thing, make an intuitive determination before approaching or allowing the traveler access to you. If it feels wrong, back off, think stay-away thoughts and go about your business. Whatever it is will likely do the same.